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Scribblings by Lizbeth
A lie on the throne is a lie still, and truth in a dungeon is truth still.
July 10th, 2005 
Jeff_Annie_Remedial Chaos Theory
People looking for Part 31 of Water Hold Me Down posted yesterday, go here.

People who know me in RL know that I've been dealing with some stomach issues for the past six months or so. I'd been putting it down to a persistant stomach bug or the fact that I had my gallbladder removed and some foods disagree with me as a result.

This is tiresome because sometimes I end up bowing out of social engagements that I want to go to (like today...I wanna see szandara's piccies of her trip).

TMI for people who don't want to readCollapse )

So I call my mom complaining about my digestive system feeling like crap again. She pointed out that this had been going on waaaaay too long and starts with the Mom-ish questions about what I'm eating and am I eating well, whether I'm smelling my food for spoilage and washing my veggies.

Cue me: "Moooo-ooooom."

Then she hits this question: "Are you keeping your fridge cold enough?"

I snort. "Of course."

So I get the "Check for mommy" speech.

I go and check and what does my fridge thermometer read? A fridge I hadn't opened all morning because the thought of food makes the ol' tummy gurgle?

Let's put it this way: Cold enough that food won't spoil, but warm enough to let the bacteria and fungi (for the veggies and fruit) have a party.

*headdesk*

Keep in mind, I've had food poisoning twice in my life, so I'm hyper aware of food smelling off. Even if it smells a little off, it goes in the trash.

My food hasn't been spoiling, but I gave the little bastards a party zone.

Obviously I haven't been paying attention to the thermometer. It needs to be at most 38-degrees F. Let's just say it was higher than that.

Unfuckingbelievable.

And I used to work in food service, so I know the right temperature to store food at.

*headdesk*

So, my mission this afternoon between running to the WC:

  • Dump everything in the fridge. All food goes in the trash. I don't care what it is. I have to assume that nothing is safe right now. That means I'll have to do a massive food shopping sooner rather than later this week and spend money that I didn't budget for.

  • Wash every dish, pot, and pan in my cabinets like a madwoman in water so hot I can't stand it. I've been using one of those sponge-y things with a soap feed and not soaking dishes in hot sudsy water. It's not related to the refrigerator issue, but I want to tackle every possible source of bacteria and I'm wondering if I haven't been cleaning my dishes well enough.

  • Scrubbing all my countertops, the table, and the stove with Lysol. Again, not connected to the refrigerator, but I've been cleaning them with this Orange Clean stuff. Suddenly, I don't trust it and I think a chemical-based bacteriocidal agent might be the way to go. Environment be fucking damned. If my use of teh ebil Lysol kills a forest, than that forest was doomed to die anyway.


Little bacterial bastards. I knew they were tricksy, but I didn't think they were that tricksy.
Jeff_Annie_Remedial Chaos Theory
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD! THIS MUSTARD EXPIRED IN 1993!

Okay. It had never been opened. But still!

The stupid mustard went through three moves. From Rhode Island to the North Shore in Massachusetts, to where I am now. I packed it. I paid to have it moved.

Cleaning out the fridge....eeewwwww!

Mom on the phone while I freak, "Just because it's never been opened doesn't mean it can't go bad."

How did all this stuff in jars and bottles shoved to the back of the fridge get fuzzy?

And we're not talking a little fuzzy. I'm talking alien life form. I'm talking keeping it as a pet or donating it to science for vivisection.

My favorite bit? My really favorite bit?

The cheap-o parmasian cheese that I used yesterday expired in December!

And I wonder why my stomach is acting up today! No wonder why me and the WC are best friends.

I'm lucky my stomach didn't need pumping!

It smelled fine! And it wasn't green-colored at all!

I obviously have a stomach made of cast-iron and a kick-ass immune system.

*reaches for the Lysol with evil glint in my eye*

I suck as a housekeeper.

And I'm apparantly stupid, too.
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